


Megaleío

by Katadenza



Category: Evillious Chronicles, Vocaloid
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lust Arc, Madness of Duke Venomania, wouldn't exactly call this fluff but it is at least a happy thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 04:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katadenza/pseuds/Katadenza
Summary: Cherubim never had that many words, and even less understanding of what they truly meant, especially for a certain one hedidhave. Some things you just have to see for yourself.





	Megaleío

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing much to say, except for a small reminder to appreciate your sunny days.

The word "glorious" was once meaningless to Cherubim.  
  
He had never read it. His guard had given him letters and from the letters he had formed words and from those words he had formed links. Links between him and his past self, links between him and the guard, links between him and that unknown person in the distant future who would someday read his clumsy, newborn words. Not those cold metal links that bound him to the cell. Links of connection. Bridges.  
  
Before Sati, Cherubim had never even seen a bridge.

 

* * *

  
  
Sati had only used the word "glorious" once, as they huddled beneath an old almond tree that grew a bit past the bridge that led to the workshop district. He was gesturing wildly with the half-eaten bread in his hand, describing a battle from his history lessons. "Glorious!" he called it. "Glorious!"  
  
It was a new word, an interesting word, and it was enough for Cherubim's attention to be pulled away from his snack, which was a rather interesting arrangement of flat bread, chunks of ground meat, and so many other vegetables that he didn't have the words for. That was new to him as well. There were many new things in those days.  
  
"Glorious?" he asked. "What does that mean?"  
  
His younger brother blinked, much like his guard when Cherubim asked him to describe the forbidden Outside. "It... means..." Sati faltered, "Full of glory...?"  
  
Gumina huffed, swatting the boy next to Cherubim. "That doesn't mean anything to him, and you know it!"  
  
Something in her words... was it the sharpness of her voice? The quickness of her hand?  
  
_"That doesn't mean anything to him..."_ The reminder, that they were two and he was one, that they had the words and he did not. In that one gesture, Cherubim heard the words unspoken, and he shrunk back against the tree, the wood just as solid and cool and unforgiving as the corner of his cell.  
  
"Hey... hey..." A hand reached out to him. Touched him on the shoulder. Warm. Comforting. He looked up, and saw Gumina's eyes. Not narrowed in judgment, as they often were. She looked at him with regret. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry..."  
  
Sati had come in closer next to him, and Cherubim could feel the heat of their bodies, forming a shield protecting him against the cold night. "I'm alright," he said. The first time he had made words that did not reflect the truth. How sinful of him. _Demon Child._  
  
"I was just curious." That was much better. The guard had described him as "curious." It meant "always asking questions". Cherubim was always asking questions. That was truth.  
  
Gumina smiled, and Cherubim's heart skipped a beat. "That's good," she said. "As for glorious... that means... well... it _does_ mean 'full of glory'..."  
  
Cherubim pressed forward, emboldened, saying the words that he knew had to be said. "And what would 'glory' mean?"  
  
They both thought, Sati and Gumina together. Arms wrapped around their knees and hands to their chins, pondering it over. "It means honor," Sati said, and realizing that he might have repeated his earlier dilemma, clarified, "Admiration. Being seen as great, and powerful."  
  
"It can mean something else," Gumina said, looking up at the moon. "Magnificent. Incredibly beautiful. To the point where you have no words to describe it."  
  
No words. He was used to having no words, no understanding. Of what had happened, of what would happen, of what the future held for the three of them sitting under the almond tree that grew a bit past the bridge that led to the workshop district, and of what Sati and Gumina meant by that mysterious word, "glorious".

 

* * *

  
  
They removed him from that cell.  
  
Cut the links that bound him, took away the links that connected him to his past self, placed him on the highest floor with those of the lowest station. He used his words, his small cache of words, gathered and hoarded over the long years from his guard and Sati and Gumina, tried to form links between him and the strangers around him.  
  
They gave him the bed by the window.  
  
That was odd. Someone had obviously been there before, having packed up all their things and was now settling in another empty bed across the room. Cherubim questioned it. He was curious, after all.  
  
All they would say was that he needed it.

 

* * *

  
  
The next morning, Cherubim was nearly blinded. Light, brighter than lamplight, sharper than moonlight, pierced its way through his eyelids and woke him up as if he'd been shaken. On instinct, he shaded his eyes with his arm, and at the edges of his vision he saw that everything shone.  
  
He looked around. His bed was painted liquid gold by the rays, and his body was as well, and he was overwhelmed, overwhelmed by the brightness and the warmth that seemed to burn everything away; the coldness of the cell, the loneliness, the anger of his father's words, all of that gone, and Cherubim suddenly felt like he had been reborn, that he had died in the night and this was his redemption, for how could a demon child sit in this golden blazing light and not burn to ash?  
  
This light, this indescribable light, and that was all Cherubim could think of as he stared at the window, his eyes watering, desperately grappling for the one elusive word that could be a bridge, that could link his mind and his heart with the sight before him.  
  
_Glorious... glorious... oh, **glorious** light…_


End file.
